-
173 Beiträge
-
0 Fotos
-
0 Videos
-
Male
-
15/12/1998
-
Follower 0 Menschen
Neueste Updates
-
The rain hadn't stopped in forty days. Not that I was counting. When you live in a world where the rain falls like bullets and each drop could crack your skull, time becomes a luxury you can't afford.My name is Jack Malloy. I was a federal agent once. Before the Scorching, before the Great Forgetting, before everything became what it is now. I don't talk about that much. The whiskey helps, but only until it doesn't. The Ark had been sitting in the desert for thirty years. Thirty years of sand and sun and silence. I found it by accident—or maybe not accident. Maybe the desert wanted me to...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 4 Ansichten 0 BewertungenBitte loggen Sie sich ein, um liken, teilen und zu kommentieren!
-
THE MIRROR IN THE BASEMENTACT I: THE WINDOWLESS ROOM Lord Alistair Finch-Worthingham inherited Blackwood Park on a Tuesday in November, which seemed appropriate: Tuesdays were the kind of days on which serious things happened—inheritances, deaths, the slow realization that one's life has been a performance for an audience that stopped watching years ago. The house was exactly as one might expect a country house named...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 5 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Patient from BelowChapter I: The Braking The letter arrived on a Friday, which in Vienna is the day when everyone pretends the weekend is going to save them from things they should have dealt with on Monday. It was typed on government stationery, in a font that was designed to look friendly but achieved only the effect of a smile that does not reach the eyes. The letter informed me that the Weiss Institute for...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 5 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Iron Crown of the FallenThe empire of Ostrava was a dying beast, a sprawling expanse of gothic spires and blackened iron that stretched across the frozen plains of the North. For three centuries, the Iron Crown had been passed from one conqueror to the next, a symbol of absolute power and absolute cruelty. Viktor was the last scion of the House of Valerius, a family that had once been the sword of the empire, but was...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 5 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Capital GameThe air in the private lounges of Manhattan did not circulate; it was filtered through million-dollar ventilation systems and scented with a mixture of sandalwood and old money. Alisa sat in a leather chair that cost more than a mid-sized house in Ohio, her expression a mask of calculated boredom. She was a financial analyst for the la Forge group, the most aggressive hedge fund in the Northern...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 5 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
THE MIRROR IN THE BASEMENTACT I: THE WINDOWLESS ROOM Lord Alistair Finch-Worthingham inherited Blackwood Park on a Tuesday in November, which seemed appropriate: Tuesdays were the kind of days on which serious things happened—inheritances, deaths, the slow realization that one's life has been a performance for an audience that stopped watching years ago. The house was exactly as one might expect a country house named...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 6 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Edge of KnowingI. I woke in darkness. The water was at my waist and the walls were concrete and I did not know where I was. My name—no. I do not know my name. I know I am a doctor. A psychologist. I treat trauma. Post-traumatic stress. I sit in a chair and listen to people tell me about the things that broke them and then I try to put them back together. The water was cold. It moved slowly, like something...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 6 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Starlight InheritanceThe jazz drifted up from the basement of 147th Street like smoke from a dying fire—thin, persistent, and full of ghosts. James Callahan stood on the sidewalk outside the speakeasy and listened to it for a moment before pushing through the heavy oak door. Inside, the air was thick with gin and cigarette smoke and the kind of desperate joy that only prosperity can breed. People danced in the...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 6 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Appraiser's EyeThe file came across my desk on a Tuesday. Standard life insurance claim, three deaths in thirty days, all listed as cardiac arrest. The kind of cluster that makes an adjuster suspicious but not alarmed. We see them every week. I opened the folder. Three names: Frank DeLuca, Rosa Martinez, James O'Brien. All three worked at the Brooklyn docks. All three lived in walk-up apartments in Red Hook....0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 6 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Observer at Five PointsCase file #47: Margaret O'Brien, personal notes. Date: March 14, 1963. I did not want this job. I wanted to finish my degree at Columbia, like my father had wanted me to before the incident at the precinct that made finishing anything feel impossible. Instead I was sitting in a third-floor office above a laundromat on Broadway, typing up case reports for a man who treated the rules of criminal...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 6 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Last OperatorI. The signal started on a Tuesday in July, the kind of Tuesday so hot the air itself felt like a weight. I was in the basement of the Sunnyside Motel, fiddling with the wiring for the third time that month. The motel sat off Route 62 in a town called Millerton, population 1,847 and dropping. Three miles from the town center was the old coal mine—closed in 2008, when the coal ran out and the...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 6 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Divided EarthThe dust of the Punjab plains was a suffocating gold, a shimmering haze that blurred the line between the earth and the sky. It was August 1947, and the world was being torn in two. The Partition of India was not a political line on a map; it was a jagged wound ripped through the heart of a thousand-year-old community. Julian was a schoolteacher in a village that had known only peace for...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 7 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
Mehr Storys